


Clavicus Vile and the Mercenary

by bobakiin



Series: Steps Between The Shadows [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Not Beta Read, kind of takes place in eso times?, my dragonborn is like 9 in this one, my hero of kvatch is the dragonborn's ancestor, technically a prequel to skyrim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22460176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobakiin/pseuds/bobakiin
Summary: After being teased about their unusual hair, Arlen decides to ask their mother why exactly they were born with pink hair. Were they really a Daedra, like the boy next door claimed? Turns out the answer is a lot more bizarre, and involves a Daedric Prince and a poorly-worded wish.
Series: Steps Between The Shadows [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616131
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Clavicus Vile and the Mercenary

It was a warm summer day in the Imperial City, when Arlen came home with a bruise on their cheek and dirt on their clothes.

_ Not again.  _ Amelie Setone thought, turning away from her cooking as she conjured a spike of ice and wrapped it in a nearby dishcloth, before handing it to her child.

"Hold that against your cheek." She ordered. "What happened this time?"

"Ancus called me a freak." Arlen replied as they sat at the kitchen table and helped themselves to a slice of bread. "So I punched him."

"I'm assuming he punched you back."

"Mhm. But don't worry Mama, it doesn't even hurt that much. And I won the fight, so he went home with more than just a bruise."

Amelie winced. "I suppose I should look forward to an angry letter from his father. And you should look forward to some angry words from yours. You know how he feels about you fighting."

"I know, it's ' _ not proper for a young lady to get into street fights'.  _ " Arlen rolled their eyes. "But I'm  _ not _ a lady, so I don't count." 

"You might not be a lady, but you shouldn't be getting into fights anyways. Why did Ancus call you a freak?"

"My hair, he said it means I'm a Daedra. And he said I'm weird for having a Khajiit brother." 

Amelie closed her eyes and sighed. Yes, her adoption of Edgard had raised some eyebrows among the Imperial City's citizens. Even her own husband, Gabriel had objected, saying that he didn't need a "filthy cat" in the house. But it had been 8 years, and even Gabriel had grown to tolerate Edgard. Surely, the gossip had to have run its course.

_ Then again _ , she thought to herself,  _ That family has always been the bigoted sort.  _ The Calladus family had been the first to align themselves with the Thalmor, before the ink on the White-Gold Concordat had even dried, enthusiastically supporting the high elves despite being men themselves. They had been the ones who had scoffed the loudest when word had spread of her adoption of Edgard had spread. It seemed that the family's close-minded attitude had spread to their youngest members as well.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Arlen spoke again.

"Why do I have pink hair anyways? You don't have it, neither does Father. I'm not really a Daedra, am I?" They asked, looking worried.

Amelie decided that dinner could wait for a bit, as she went over and sat in front of her child.

"Of course not. And Grandma had pink hair, it's just white now. And she certainly isn't a Daedra." Amelie explained.

"But why? No one else besides our family has this color."

Amelie hummed. "Well, it's a long story…"

At the word  _ story _ , Arlen perked up.

"Tell me, tell me!"

"Alright." Amelie began. " It begins a long time ago, hundreds and hundreds of years back…"

  
  


There had once been a young mercenary named Matthias. Born to a family of farmers, he left home at 16 to become a mercenary and seek fame and fortune.

But Matthias soon discovered that he was only average at fighting, and couldn't compare to those who managed to clear out dungeons and caverns alone. Fame came to those who traveled to lands like Elsweyr to fight dragons, fortune came to those who ventured deep into ancient ruins for treasure. Matthias, who could barely fend off a wolf on his own, and was too cowardly to even go into the forests at night, got neither.

Years passed, and Matthias mostly made his money by wild animals for local farms. He would sit in taverns, filled with jealousy as other adventurers and mercenaries bragged about their battles.

"Got this helmet right off a draugr in Skyrim! Damn near took an axe to the face for it too!" A tall Nord bragged to a group of awed women.

"Yeah? Got this while fighting alongside Abnur Tharn himself, in Rimmen. And my buddy here took on a group of necromancers in Betnikh by herself!" A Breton girl with silver hair showed off a long, jagged scar on her neck, her arm around a Wood Elf.

Matthias, who had stayed in Cyrodiil all his life, and had never ventured anywhere as dangerous as an ancient Nord tomb or a necromancers' base, said nothing as he sat alone at a table in the corner of the tavern. No one approached him, and as a Breton with plain brown hair and no noteworthy scars, he blended in with the rest of the crowd in the room. Fed up, he decided it was time for drastic measures. He would _make_ people notice him.

So he journeyed to the Shrine of Clavicus Vile, where he placed an offering in front of the statue and prayed. He had once read a book about Daedra, and the Daedric Prince of Wishes was just who he needed. There was silence for a moment, then a voice spoke.

"You have business with Clavicus Vile, mortal?"

"Yes I do. I have a wish." 

"A wish, eh? You came to the right place. Let's hear it."

"I want to stand out." Matthias said. "All the other mercenaries get fame and fortune, while I get neither. Make it so everyone can't help but notice me."

"Is that it? That's easy enough to grant." Clavicus Vile replied. "When you wake up tomorrow morning, your life will begin."

Thanking the Daedric Prince, Matthias went on his way. He was so desperate, and so excited,that he missed the mocking laughter in Clavicus Vile's voice as the Daedric Prince bid him farewell.

Matthias stopped by a local tavern that night, and as he fell asleep, he wondered how Clavicus Vile would grant his wish. Would he become strong enough to fight a dragon? Good looking enough to attract a horde of fans wherever he went? Or maybe he'd be granted a rare weapon that would make him stand out among everyone else.

The next morning, he woke up. He didn't feel any different, and after checking the room, there wasn't anything new. Finally, he grabbed his sword, and checked his reflection using it's blade.

To his horror, he found that he now had bright pink hair. While Matthias read that Clavicus Vile granted wishes, the book he had read didn't mention that those granted wishes often came with a catch. 

He had to think quickly, lest he be ridiculed for the rest of his life. So when he went downstairs and the entire tavern stopped to stare at him, he exclaimed,

"I received a vision from Stendarr himself, in my dreams! He changed my hair, and told me that my lineage will be one of heroes and gods! This color marks me as the one with legendary blood in my veins!"

At first, most of the patrons weren't convinced, thinking him mad. But a man spoke up. 

"The man had brown hair when he came in last night, and now it's suddenly pink? I believe him. And it makes sense that Stendarr, god of Justice, would mark a man who would birth heroes." 

Others who had seen Matthias the night before agreed, and the rest of the tavern quickly came to believe him. Soon, Matthias became well-known as the man who would raise legends, blessed by Stendarr himself, and he got himself the fame he was seeking by outsmarting a Daedric Prince and turning a trick into a blessing.

  
  


"So does that mean our family has the blood of heroes?" Arlen asked as their mother finished.

"Of course! We're descended from the Hero of Kvatch himself, and maybe he also had pink hair. And who knows, there might be another hero someday. So don't listen to Ancus when he calls you a freak."

"Do you think I can be a hero?"

"You might, but first you'll have to stop coming home covered in dirt and bruises! Now put the ice in the basin and go wash up before your father comes home." Amelie watched Arlen run upstairs, their anger at Ancus forgotten. 

  
  
  


Now, here is the part that Amelie left out. 

It angered Clavicus Vile to see that a mortal had turned his trick to their favor. It angered him even more, to see his trick be credited to an  _ Aedra  _ and not to him _. _ No one got the better of a Daedrix Prince, especially not him. So he waited for the right moment, then one day, years later, he appeared before Matthias as the man was walking through a forest.

"You're a clever mortal." Clavicus Vile praised him, before his tone turned sinister. "But no one gets the better of Clavicus Vile."

"W-what are you going to do?" Matthias asked, frightened.

The Daedric Prince grinned. "I'm going to make your little lie a reality. Your descendants will be heroes, and will save Tamriel, maybe even all of Nirn itself. They will become gods and champions. But they will also endure suffering and grief beyond what you can imagine. Their stories will never end in happiness."

Matthias, coward that he was, was secretly relieved that it was his descendants who would suffer and not him. And besides, all he had to do was not have children, and Clavicus Vile's curse would never come to fruition.

He ran off, away from the laughing Daedric Prince. 

When he got home, his wife came up to him. Matthias' felt his heart drop as he noticed that she had a hand on her stomach, realizing why Clavicus Vile had waited until today to approach him.

"I have good news," she said excitedly. "I'm with child. We're going to be parents!"

It was then that Matthias learned that he could never truly outsmart a Daedric Prince. In the end, they always come out on top. His selfish desire for superficial things, as well as his lies, had doomed an entire bloodline.

  
  


Amelie reflected on this as she finished cooking dinner. The story was ancient, passed down since the Second Era. It was probably a myth anyways. It seemed much more likely that one of their ancestors was a mage, and had somehow messed up a spell so badly it caused their hair color to permanently change. 

But the Hero of Kvatch had mysteriously disappeared after the Oblivion Crisis, leaving her ancestor alone and pregnant. And who knew what the man had gone through while he was alive? Every family member who had achieved greatness, she realized, had either died horribly or gone through something awful. Was it just a coincidence? Or was the pink hair truly proof of Clavicus Vile's promise? Myth or not, she didn't want to scare her child by telling them that they might be destined for suffering.

_Please,_ She silently prayed to whatever Divine might have been listening. _True story or not,_ _don't let Arlen become a hero. Let them live in peace and quiet, where their only fights will be with their brother on who gets the last sweetroll. Surely that isn't too much to ask for?_

**Author's Note:**

> hello, thank you for reading my first ever...coherent? fanfic! When I originally made my Dragonborn (Arlen) and my Hero of Kvatch (Kadeth), I had no explanation for their pink hair other than "It just looked neat". Then I started actually developing them as characters, and wanted to kind of give a reason why exactly their hair is like that. Basically, it's just Clavicus Vile being Clavicus Vile.


End file.
